


let's not lose ourselves

by louscr



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Isolation, Love, M/M, MAG 159, Season 4 Spoilers, The Lonely - Freeform, this is just soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-25 15:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21358276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louscr/pseuds/louscr
Summary: "i love you," something in jon chants, something warm and bright and strong, as he stares at martin and feels the man's hand twisted in the back of his shirt, an anchor.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	let's not lose ourselves

**Author's Note:**

> title from ricky montgomery's snow

the fog shifts around them, deep and impenetrable, as jon steps towards martin's silhouette, the colors washed out and features blurred. his face is neutral, expression empty as he stares right back at jon, the echo of him stating peter lukas' last wish ringing in jon's ears.

_ (and fear boils anew in his chest at the sight of him, pushing against the contented fullness of a fresh statement.) _

his eyes burn as he reaches out for martin, his hand simply passing through the silhouette, and the tears fall, welling from too deep and burning across the starving skin of his palms and cheeks and neck.

"listen," he begs, all that fear curling up in his throat like a stopper, squeezing tight around his wavering heart, "i know you think you want to be here, i know you think it's safer," and suddenly jon has to stop, choke back a sob and muffle it under a few stuttered truths because he's only just learning relearning a new form of heartbreak is now, as fog swirls around his ankles and martin watches him with pallid, uncaring eyes.

"but we need you. i need you."

_ (martin's voice echoes back to him after the plea, layered and dissonant, from the nowhere and everywhere of the endless fog and crashing sea.) _

"no you don't, not really," and underneath the apathy, there is conviction, and jon's heart cracks again.

he just wants to reach out, to pull martin into his arms and drag him out of the lonely, to somewhere he can know that he matters, that jon needs him. then it clicks, like that placement of those tapes across the lid of the coffin, that this isn't jon's choice, and martin feels further away than ever.

"martin- martin look at me. look at me and tell me what you see," jon finally manages to beg, staring into those blank eyes from more angles than he can process, tears streaking from every one as despair festers within his lungs. 

and then slowly, echoingly, "i see- i see you, jon," as martin's gaze flicks over his face in brief glances before settling, some of the fog rolls back, leaving them stood a few feet apart, martin's eyes once again flooded with color. 

"i see you." the echo stops. and martin is there, bags under his eyes and shaking.

jon exhales his name and it tastes like hope brimming beneath his chest, before stepping forward and yanking martin closer, bridging the few feet between them and burying his face in the taller man's sweater.

a beat of stillness passes, silence wrapped around them and the cold of martin's skin leeching against jon's, before martin slumps, curling around jon, body wracked with sobs. "i was on my own," he whispers into the jon's hair, breath shaking and tears falling past his cheeks, "i was all on my own."

_ (an echo of rage flashes through jon, white hot and brutal, and he is suddenly and sickeningly glad for what he'd done to peter lukas.) _

"not anymore," jon whispers back, turning his head and tilting his face up to stare into martin's eyes, finally as full and vibrant again as they'd been before jon had died.

he tightens his hold on martin for a second, feeling martin mirror the action, before half pulling away, so they are still wrapped around each other but can now walk.

_ ("i love you," something in him chants, something warm and bright and strong, as he stares at martin and feels the man's hand twisted in the back of his shirt, an anchor.) _

"let's go home."


End file.
